


It Only Takes One Oops...

by danajeanne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 04:44:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1415551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danajeanne/pseuds/danajeanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone gets pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Feather_touch for the beta! This is for Laminy and the Secret Santa exchange at Mpregwinchester. Her request was for Dean/Sam, angst, and while Dean is her favorite character she didn’t care who was pregnant. The views expressed in this story are not necessarily the views held by the author, beta or recipient. The boys belong to Kripke, not me.

“You’re WHAT?” Dean dropped onto the motel room bed, sinking into the cheap mattress. He had not just heard what his brain was trying to tell him had come out of his little brother’s mouth. No way. Not at all.

Sam waived the little plastic dipstick under his brother’s nose, the dipstick with the scary blue ‘positive’ cross on it. “Pregnant, knocked up, with child, screwed.”

“Well… fuck.” Dean grimaced, ducking as Sam took a swipe at his head.

“Exactly that,” Sam pointed out, bitch-face front and center.

“How, I mean, when… fuck,” Dean mumbled, his speaking ability currently matching his thought process.

“You’ve got the ‘how’ down perfectly,” Sam said as he sank down on the bed next to his brother. “The when? Oh, cast your brain–your upstairs brain–back about six weeks to that weekend at the Grand Canyon. The night with the full moon, the back of the Impala, NO condoms, the ‘come on Sammy, just this once, what can one time hurt, it’ll be fine, please Sammy, please.’”

“I didn’t beg--”

“You sure as hell didn’t use a condom! And, yes, you begged.” 

“Did not.”

“Did… you’re changing the subject. And I’m going to puke.” Sam shot off the bed like a rocket and ran for the toilet. 

Dean tried closing his ears to the sounds emanating from the bathroom before giving up and deciding he’d better get his own ass in there to provide some moral support. Because, while he had not begged, it was kind of his fault Sam was pregnant. 

“I thought you had the flu,” Dean said quietly as he gently rubbed Sam’s back and tried not to inhale the scent of vomit.

“So did I,” Sam spit out, “until I realized I was only getting sick in the damn mornings. And was hungrier than normal, and kept wanting to take naps.” He gagged a couple more times then sagged back against the wall knocking a few flakes of peeling paint to the floor.

Dean flushed the toilet and lowered the cracked lid. “You done?”

Sam glared up at him. “Yeah, for now.”

“Then can we get out of here? Get some break…er, go for a drive, fresh air, whatthefuckever?” Dean reached down and grabbed Sam’s hand, pulling him up off the floor. 

“Don’t even mention food to me, you bastard,” Sam growled.

“Hormonal girl,” Dean muttered under his breath as they gathered their jackets and headed out of the dingy motel room.

“I heard that.”

____________________ 

“You’ll have to stop hunting, you know,” Dean commented out of the blue. He was aimlessly driving the backcountry roads with the windows down, hoping the fresh air would make his brother feel better.

Sam’s head whipped around in his direction. “What?”

“You can’t hunt while you’re pregnant. That’s pretty much a no-brainer, Sam.”

“And why can’t I?”

Dean glanced over at him quickly then back to the road. “You’re kidding, right? Never mind you might injure our baby; you could end up getting both of you killed. What if you suddenly need to puke in the middle of a hunt? Or you get dizzy? Are you even thinking clearly right now, Sam, because it sounds to me like you ralphed up your brains, too, this morning.” Dean heaved a huge sigh. “Sammy, you are crying?”

“NO!” Sam snapped between sniffles. 

“Yeah, doesn’t sound like it at all.” Dean rummaged under the seat before coming up with a box of tissues. “Here. I’m sorry, but you know I’m right.”

“Yeah. Means you gotta stop, too.”

Dean shot Sam a surprised look. “Excuse me? I’m not the one who’s knocked up.”

“You’re not hunting without me to watch your back. That’s the first thing,” Sam pointed out. “If you’re out hunting, who’s gonna be paying the rent and all that? You planning on lugging me AND our baby around from motel to motel?”

“I… what… well, shit,” was all Dean could manage at this point. Life as he knew it was about to make a whole 180 degree turn.  
“Exactly. Are we planning to stop anytime soon? Because I’m starving. I am eating for two, after all,” Sam reminded him a trifle obnoxiously.

Dean reminded himself about hormones and how Sam was going to be even more of a girl than usual for the next several months. He decided not to point out how much Sam ate normally; he already gave a whole new meaning to the term hollow legs.

Still feeling slightly guilty about the lack of condom use, he decided to choose a real restaurant rather than one of their usual diners, hoping the lack of a greasy spoon smell would help Sam keep his lunch in one place. A sign on the corner ahead of them caught his eye. The Olive Garden. Perfect. 

It took no time at all to park, go inside, get seated; 11 am was early for lunch and there were only a few other diners in the restaurant. While Sam had perked up when he realized where they were going, Dean was not happy to discover there were no burgers on the menu. 

“We need to find you a doctor. A safe one,” Dean said quietly as he poked at his lasagna. “You okay?”

Sam stirred his gnocchi chicken soup before taking another spoonful. “This is good. Yeah, I’m fine, and maybe Bobby or Pastor Jim will know a doctor we can use. You get to call.”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, what about Dad?”

“What about him?”

“What are we going to tell him?” Dean set his fork down. Suddenly his meal wasn’t as appetizing as it had been.

“Nothing, duh. Hey, Dad, I knocked up my brother…what?” Sam raised his eyebrows at the glare Dean shot his way.

“Keep your girly voice down, I don’t want to have to defend your honor in the middle of lunch,” Dean hissed, keeping an eye on their waiter as he walked by.

Sam sighed. “Sorry.”

“Dad’s gonna find out,” Dean said.

“Can we not worry about Dad right now? He’s the last thing on my mind at the moment, you know? I’m more concerned with--”

“Shhhh…”

“–finding a doctor,” Sam lowered his voice to a bare whisper, “and a place to live for the next year. You’re going to have to get a real job, and…and…” A sniffle or two, and watery eyes proved the out-of-control hormones were front and center right now.

“It’ll be okay, Sammy, I promise.”

“Like you promised it would be okay having sex without a condom?” Sam asked bitterly, albeit tearfully.

“You could have said ‘no’,” Dean pointed out defensively.

“I…yeah, I could have. I didn’t. Now we have to deal.” Sam picked up his bowl and drank the rest of his soup as Dean looked on in astonishment. “What? It really is good soup.”

“Just don’t lick the damn thing.” Dean caught their waiter’s attention and motioned for the bill. “Let’s get out of here, call Bobby and figure out what we’re going to do after that.” 

Quickly handing over his latest credit card, “thank you, Mr. Artures, have a good day”, Dean beat feet out of the building quickly catching up to Sam, who was already ensconced in the car. Pulling out his phone, Dean dialed Bobby’s number.

“Hey Bobby, we need your help.” Dean wasn’t wasting time on useless pleasantries.

“I’m fine, thanks, Dean, how are you two this fine spring day?” came over the line sarcastically. 

Dean figured it was best to just spit out. “Sam’s pregnant.” 

“He’s WHAT?”

Dean yanked the phone away from his ear glaring at it before putting it back in place. “Shit, Bobby, do you think they heard you down in Florida?”

“How the hell did he …never mind, don’t answer that. Who’s the father? Damnation, boy, don’t answer that either, I don’t wanna know. Don’t know what your dad’s gonna say about all this.”

“We’re not worrying about dad right now, Bobby, just Sam. Do you know a doctor we can trust?”

“Yeah, yeah, let me think a minute. Yeah. Blue Earth. I’ll call Jim for you; let him know you’re on the way. And Dean? You boys be careful. There’re enough hunters out there gunning for Sam already, we don’t need to add any more idjits to the list. You’ll be safe at Jim’s until Sam gets too big to hide it, in the meantime we’ll find you a permanent place to hole up in.” With that, Bobby hung up.

Dean closed his own phone and stuck it back in his pocket. “You hear that?”

“Like you said, they probably heard him down in Florida. So we’re off to Pastor Jim’s?” 

“Yeah,” Dean answered, starting the car. “We can either take turns driving and go straight through, or stop at night. Up to you.”

Sam thought for a moment. “Let’s try for straight through and see how it goes.”

“Just don’t puke in the car.”

“Just remember WHY I’m puking at all, Dean,” Sam said wryly.

“Yeah, well. Yeah.”

_______________________

They didn’t quite make it straight through to Blue Earth. After Dean had stopped for the fifth time the second morning on the road, he pulled over and made Sam lie down in the back seat until the nausea went away. 

“Just lie still, Sam,” Dean said quietly. He gently stroked the damp bangs out of Sam’s eyes and kissed his forehead. “We can wait to go on; we’re not in any big rush.”

“I hate this,” Sam moaned.

“I know,” Dean soothed. “You always did hate to throw up, used to do everything possible to avert it. Drove me nuts, you know? ‘Cause then you’d usually spew when I least expected it.”

“Thanks for that visual.”

“No problemo, little brother. I aim to please,” Dean joked. “Just close your eyes, baby. Rest,” he added softly.

“Don’t call me baby…” Sam’s voice trailed off as his eyes closed. Dean stayed crouched on the side of the road till his breathing evened out. Giving Sam one last kiss, he climbed back into the front seat of the Impala and settled in, ready to wait as long as it took for Sam to wake up. 

They spent the next night in a motel, again waiting out the next morning’s sickness before heading out on the road. By the time they arrived at Pastor Jim’s both men were emotionally exhausted, and Sam, physically.

“God, I’m tired,” Sam breathed out around a huge sigh. There were dark circles under his eyes, testimony to his inability to sleep well the past few nights.

Dean clasped Sam’s hand, squeezing gently. “I know. But we’re here now and you can rest as much as you want.” 

“I’m going to get sick again. God, I am so tired,” Sam said again, the corners of this mouth turning down.

“You know where the bathroom is. Go.” Dean pulled the Impala to a stop and turned off the engine. Sam flew out of the car hand over his mouth.

Jim was waiting for them on the steps of his house, a tall, imposing figure who topped even Sam by an inch or two. While he had a smile on his face, as he drew closer Dean could see concern in the wrinkles around his eyes and the set of his jaw. 

Jim glanced behind him then looked over at Dean. “Do I need to–” he jerked his head in Sam’s direction.

Dean shook his head. “He’s been winding himself up all day worrying about what you’re going to think about this.” 

“It’s not my place to judge either one of you, Dean,” Pastor Jim said quietly. “Regardless of what I personally think, you both have my love and total support. I would hope Sam knew that already.”

“He does.” Sam spoke up from behind the two men. “It’s just… I feel weird inside, everything’s mixed up. I guess this is normal. One of Jess and my friend’s at Stanford was pregnant and she practically had a personality change overnight. Jess said it was hormones.”

“That’s correct. You’re going to be having strange feelings and wildly fluctuating emotions for the next year–especially after the baby is born–so you’d both best get prepared. I’ve made an appointment with Dr. Stone for you, Sam, for the day after tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” 

Sam’s shoulders were beginning to droop, even his hair looked tired. Dean gave his brother a gentle shove in the direction of the front door. “I don’t know about you, Sammy, but I could use some food and a nap about now.”

Sam grimaced. “I’ll pass on the food, but some sleep is sounding pretty good. Our usual room, Pastor Jim?”

Jim closed the door behind him, keeping the toasty air inside the house. “Your usual room, Sam. Towels are in the bathroom, everything’s ready for you.”

“Thanks. Again,” Sam said and disappeared up the stairs to the bedroom and the soft, warm bed that had been prepared for him.

“I foresee an awful lot of chick-flick moments in my future,” Dean sighed. 

“I foresee a lot more than chick-flick moments, son,” said Jim. “There’s beer in the fridge; grab a couple and come sit. We need to talk.”

Four of Dean’s least favorite words: “we need to talk”. They usually preceded conversations that were long, uncomfortable and contained things he did not want to hear. He’d bet his last dollar–which he was pretty close to already–that the upcoming discussion was going to be all three.

After they’d gotten comfortable, Dean on the couch in front of the fireplace, Jim in an easy chair on the other side, and had a few sips each, Jim took the bull by the horns and asked the one question Dean didn’t want anyone to ask. “Is this your baby?”

“What?”

“Is this your baby?” Jim asked again.

“What makes you think that?” Dean parried.

“Well, for one thing, you’re entirely too calm. You’re not threatening to maim or kill the person who got Sam pregnant, for another. I know you both too well. This isn’t how you’d be reacting if someone else had gotten Sam pregnant.” 

Dean gave a short nod. “Do you want us to leave?” 

“No. I told you already I’m not here to judge you. What you and Sam have done is between you and God, and that’s all I’ll say about it. I just wanted to know if there was going to be another person involved with this, or if it was just the two of you.”

“Just us.”

“And your dad?”

“He doesn’t know, and we’d prefer to keep it that way. He’s gonna have to find out eventually, but the longer we can postpone it the better for Sam. And me; I’m in no hurry to die, and I guarantee, Dad is going to kill me.” Dean took a long pull on his beer, avoiding eye contact.

“I think we can keep your dad from committing murder,” Jim said dryly. “Will he wonder if he doesn’t hear from either of you for an extended length of time?”

“Yeah. The first time he sends us coordinates and then finds out we didn’t take care of the problem he’s gonna be on our asses wanting to know why. So I guess the first thing we gotta do is figure out what to tell him so we can take a few months off from hunting. Or something. Hell, I don’t know what to do, and I can’t believe I’m saying that.” 

Pastor Jim got up and tossed another log on the fire. Even though it was spring, it was still cold up in Minnesota and the house was old, chill easily slipped in. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, then.” He settled back into his chair. “First order of business is to get Sam to the doctor, make sure everything is coming along the way it should be, then find you boys a way to earn some honest money. I’m assuming you don’t want Sam out hunting–”

“Hell no!”

“–now or after the baby is born?” Jim finished.

“No, sir,” Dean replied a bit more quietly. “We’re done with hunting. I won’t do to our child what Dad did to us. Sam and I’ve talked briefly about this, about stopping hunting for good, and I’m pretty sure we’re done with hunting. At least with the roaming lifestyle type of hunting,” he added.

“You’re planning to keep the child, then?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Sam agrees?”

“We haven’t talked about it, but he’ll agree. He hasn’t even mentioned not keeping it. And I know my brother; the baby’s a Winchester and we take care of our own,” Dean growled. 

“Okay, just asking. I’ve made some calls, and there’s a garage in town that needs a new mechanic–that would be you, and the local library is hiring for a part-time assistant. That would be Sam. He could work there, probably up to about his sixth month depending on how he carries the baby and whether he looks fat or pregnant. Once he looks pregnant, he’ll have to pretty much stay in the house and away from people.”

“Where are we going to live?” It went against everything in Dean to accept what almost amounted to charity; a Winchester took care of his own, but for Sam? He’d bow down and take the help. Screw pride; his brother and their baby took precedence over everything.

“For right now, with me. After Sam quits work, there’s a cabin about three miles back in the woods behind the church; it’s still on church property, but nobody knows it’s there. Bobby, Caleb and I built it about 15 years ago just in case any of us needed a place to go to ground. Bobby and I both agree that this is one of those times. It’s close enough to town for any emergencies, but hidden and far enough out that nobody is going to stumble across you accidentally.”

“And after the baby is born, I guess we can move someplace where nobody knows us and settle in,” Dean said. 

“Invent a deceased mother for your baby and you’re ready to go.”

Dean was quiet, taking it all in. Finally, he finished his beer and stood. “I’m going to go check on Sam. That nap actually sounds pretty good to me, too.”

“Want me to wake you for dinner?”

“Yeah. And thanks.”

________________________________ 

Stealth was a Winchester’s middle name, and while Sam wasn’t showing yet, he was going to the hospital to see a Gynecologist, so it wasn’t exactly something he or Dean wanted to announce to everyone in the waiting room. It was a small hospital; Blue Earth not being a boomtown, so sneaking in the back door was relatively easy.

Dr. “call me David” Stone was waiting for them in the examining room. He was a robust older man, gray-haired and looked to be around his early 60’s. Turned out he was a hunter in his younger days, decided to turn to medicine in order to help his fellow hunters, and knew John Winchester.

“I did my fare share of stitching him up several times when the two of you were still tadpoles. Last time I saw either one of you, Sam was just coming out of diapers and you were a smart mouthed little tiger.” David handed Sam a gown that wouldn’t even begin to cover him. “If you’ll get into this–as much as you can–we can get started on the exam and see just how far along you are.”

“I can tell you exactly how far along I am,” Sam said as he started to remove his clothes. “Six weeks, three days and x-number of hours.”

“No condom,” Dean admitted with an eye roll.

“Only takes once,” said Dr. Stone. “Did you know you had the pregnancy gene? Were you tested when you hit puberty? Go ahead and sit up here.” He patted the examining table. “Let’s just drape that over your lap, why don’t we, since we’re going to need access to your belly for the ultrasound.”

“Yes, I knew, I was tested in school.” Sam’s face was beet red and he kept his head down, not making eye contact with either the doctor or his brother. 

“Do you want me to wait outside?” Dean stepped back, stopping as Sam looked up, eyes wide and grabbed at his arm.

“No! Stay in here. Please.” 

Dean moved in closer and rested his hand on Sam’s arm. This was only going to get more embarrassing, probably for both of them.

“Can I have a blanket or something,” Sam asked, shivering. 

“Of course. In the cabinet behind you, Dean,” Dr. Stone pointed out.

‘Thanks.” Sam smiled slightly as his brother tucked the blanket around his shoulders.

“Welcome.” Dean looked at him for a moment then grabbed a second blanket and covered Sam’s feet and lower legs. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s face was slightly less pink. 

“Do you know who the father is?” Dr. Stone asked. He gently pressed his fingers against the small bulge in Sam’s abdomen. “Does this hurt?”

“Yes. And no.” Sam didn’t elaborate, and Dean kept his mouth shut. 

The doctor looked up, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Yes, you know the father is, or yes, this hurts?”

“YesIknowwhothefatheris,” Sam spit out, eyes on the ceiling, “and no, it doesn’t hurt. Is it supposed to?” He finally looked at the doctor.

“No, it’s not. It’s just a standard check and question. Do you know anything about the father’s medical background? Are there any genetic complications in the family, diseases, anything that your baby could inherit?”

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. After a moment, Dean gave a small shake of his head. Nothing that he knew of, other than the fact that they were brothers!

“Not that I know of,” said Sam, squirming uncomfortably and eying the door.

“It’s okay, Sam, I don’t need to know who the father is. Son, relax, you’re going to be fine. Now, have you had any unusual cravings, vomiting, have you been more tired lately?”

Sam’s eyes closed, his nose wrinkled, and Dean wished the floor would simply swallow them both. This was embarrassing enough for him, for Sam it had to be ten times worse. 

“Yes. To all three. And Dean says I’ve been a whiney bitch lately. I haven’t had the cravings, I just want to eat at weird times,” Sam admitted.

“Like 3 am,” Dean muttered. “What? I heard you in the bathroom chomping down on the Cheese Puffs. Plus, I found the empty bag in the trash when I went to take a shower.”

“I was hungry,” Sam whined.

“It’s okay!” Dean snapped. “You can be hungry. I’ll feed you whatever you want. Just don’t eat in the bathroom, dude, that’s just gross.”

“Have your breasts been tender, your nipples sore?” Dr. Stone interrupted the brothers.

“What? I don’t have… I mean… yes. Tender and sore. This is… I can’t believe this is happening.” Sam’s eyes were beginning to look a little on the wild, scared side. Dean briefly gripped Sam’s arm a little harder, before relaxing his fingers but leaving his hand in place. 

“Oh, it’s definitely happening, Sam. I’m going to palpitate your breasts a little,” Dr. Stone said just before his fingers began to press around Sam’s nipples. “Good, it looks like you’ll actually be able to breast feed the baby; not all men can do that.”

Sam shifted, and bunched the hospital gown up around his groin.

“Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Nothing,” Sam muttered and shifted again.

“That’s okay, Sam, it happens. It’s a normal reaction and nothing to be ashamed of,” Dr. Stone said calmly, continuing the exam. 

“What?” Dean asked again.

“Nothing,” Sam said at the same time as Dr. Stone explained the erection Sam was experiencing.

“Oh.” 

“Okay, this is going to be cold,” Dr. Stone warned as he rubbed the ultrasound gel on Sam’s belly.

“Whooo, no shit.” Sam squirmed a bit before settling back down. “Now what?”

“Now we take a look at your baby,” was the reply as Dr. Stone started running the equipment across the gel.

Dean moved around so he could see the screen. It pretty much looked like random scribbles to him, nothing that appeared to be a baby in the making. “You sure there’s something in there? Maybe he just has a bad case of gas–”

“Dean!”

“Well, you should see it, Sammy. Gives the Rorschach test a whole new meaning. Think the doc here took lessons from Picasso.” 

“Dean…” 

That was a whine; good, Sam was looking less embarrassed and more pissed off now. Mission accomplished.

“Here it is,” Dr. Stone said. “Right there,” he pointed with his pen to a little blob towards the top left of the screen before moving over to the right, “…and here’s the other one.”

“WHAT?” Sam and Dean chorused.


	2. Chapter 2

21 weeks into the pregnancy

Over three months had gone by since the Winchesters were given the daunting news Sam was carrying twins. To be honest, Dean was quite proud of the fact he’d managed to go above and beyond in the procreating department and couldn’t resist ribbing Sam about it as often as possible.

It wasn’t until Pastor Jim reminded him two babies meant two sets of diapers, feeding and burping that both men finally realized the enormity of what they had to face in just a few more months. 

Dean had been working as many hours as possible at the garage in an attempt to save the maximum amount of money possible. Sam, too, had worked as much as he could up until his fourth month when it began to be obvious, to Dean and Pastor Jim anyway, that the round belly Sam was sporting was due to the twins rather than too much food. Now he stayed at home, helping with research for other hunters, taking long walks in the woods behind them and popping his vitamins like a good mother-to-be. 

Baby items had begun mysteriously appearing on Pastor Jim’s front porch and while Jim was keeping mum about it all, the boys were pretty sure he was behind the gifts. All were gently used, and eventually there were two of everything. Bobby was coming up sometime in the next couple of weeks to help get them moved into the cabin since Sam couldn’t be hauling things around anymore, a fact which had him completely frustrated. He simply wasn't used to sitting still.

Today was the day they hoped to find out what Sam was hauling around inside him: girls, boys or one of each.

“Or a couple of monkeys,” Dean said sarcastically as they drove to the hospital. “They’re certainly bouncing around enough in there. Kind of early for that, isn’t it?”

“You’re asking me? Like I’ve ever been pregnant before?” 

“Your friend at Stanford–”

“--was only six weeks along when you came and dragged me off to look for dad,” Sam pointed out. 

Dean really had nothing to say to that; anything he might come up with would only make it worse, so he ignored it and went back to the speculation on gender. “Must be boys, girls wouldn’t be that active. They’re ready to get out and kick some monster ass!” he crowed with a wide grin.

“Our children are not going to be hunters, Dean,” Sam protested firmly. “They’re going to be normal.”

“Their parents are brothers, and their mother is a man; where do you get normal out of that?”

“As normal as possible, then. Do you think it’s strange we haven’t heard anything from dad in the last couple months?” Sam added, changing the subject.

“Yeah, I was thinking about that the other day but didn’t want to jinx anything. Maybe we can just not think about it?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Eh! Jinx, Sammy, don’t go there.” Dean pulled into the hospital’s parking lot and drove around to the back door. “I’ll go make sure the coast is clear, little mother.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

“If you had we wouldn’t be here, would we?” Dean shut the car door firmly, as close to a slam as he’d ever get with his beloved Impala. After a few minutes he stuck his head and arm out the back door and made an all-clear motion for Sam to come on in.

Dean stopped Sam with a hand on the back of his neck before he could go inside. “Hey,” he said softly, and kissed the tip of Sam’s nose. “You have a hot nose.”

“I love you, too, moron,” Sam smiled. 

Dr. Stone was waiting for them inside the hospital and he quickly shuffled them into the nearest exam room and closed the door. Sam was already removing his clothes; the embarrassment for both boys had passed several visits ago and they’d learned to trust the doctor. They were finally on first name terms with Dr. “call me David” Stone.

“How are you feeling, Sam?” David handed him a blanket to cover up with as Dean helped Sam crawl up on the table.

“Other than feeling fat–”

“You’re not fat,” Dean protested quickly.

“–I’m feeling fine. A little tired by the end of the day, and I’m taking a lot of afternoon naps, but that’s it.” Sam settled down against the raised back of the exam table.

“No lower back pain, no sign of the birth canal appearing, your breasts are still enlarging without pain?”

Listening to a doctor asking his brother questions like that was just so wrong. Dean hid a laugh behind a cough as Sam and David both turned and glared at him. “Sorry. Had a tickle.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you a tickle,” Sam warned, “right where it hurts the most if you don’t knock it off.”

“Sorry, Sammy, but do you realize what it sounds like to have someone asking you questions like that?”

Sam’s glare didn’t ease. “Yeah, dude, it sounds like someone who cares about our baby.” 

Dean’s eyes widened at what Sam had just said. “You didn’t answer David’s questions, Sam. Back pain….?” 

David glanced up at Dean, then Sam. “You’re very lucky, Sam, to have Dean for a brother.”

“How so? Not that I’m disagreeing,” Sam added quickly.

“He’s sticking by you. Brings you to your appointments, supports you. Not all brothers would do that.” David’s eyes were knowing, sympathetic, not judging. “Hunters…you’re a different breed, special. So, Sam; back pain?” 

“Oh, um, yeah. My lower back hurts sometimes, but that’s it. Really. Do you think I’ll have enough milk to feed both babies?” He quickly changed the subject.

“It looks like you should, and if not, you can augment with formula. Lots of people do that. So you and Dean are going to raise the twins together?” David asked casually.

“Yeah. I can’t do it alone,” Sam said, deliberately ignoring the fact David had pretty much told them he knew Dean was the father. “I hope we can see what they are today. They’re sure bouncing around enough these days, maybe they’ve bounced into the correct position for us!” 

“Well, let’s find out.” David rubbed the gel across Sam’s protruding belly and turned on the machine. “Ready?”

Dean and Sam both nodded, big grins on their faces.

The only sound was the hum of the machine as David slowly rotated it around, looking for the twins. “You’ve got one little girl…” David looked up. “Congratulations, you have two girls.”

“Fraternal?” asked Sam.

“Nope, looks like identical. Better start thinking about how to tell them apart.” David grinned and started to clean Sam up.

“Girls, Dean,” Sam whispered, eyes tearing up. “We’ve got two little girls.”

Before Dean could respond the door burst open and a nurse walked through, her head tilted away as she talked to someone behind her. She stopped dead when she turned into the room and saw Sam, naked, his groin area covered by the blanket, but his pregnant belly sticking out for all the world to see.

“You can wait in … Oh. Excuse me. Oh. Um. You’re … ohmygod,” tumbled out of her mouth so quickly she’d stopped talking almost before anyone realized she’d begun.

“Nancy, have you never heard of knocking on a closed door?” Dr. Stone asked angrily. 

“I’m sorry, I thought it was empty. He’s pregnant!” She hadn’t moved from her spot at the door and behind her two elderly women were doing their best to peer around her. “You’re… you’re the guy from the library. You used to work there. You’re pregnant.”

“Nancy!” Dr. Stone barked. “OUT, now. Please. And keep this quiet. Patient confidentiality. We don’t discuss our patients with other people.” He waited till the girl had moved back, shoving the two women behind her out of the way, and closing the door, before he turned back to the Winchesters. “I apologize for this, guys. I’ve no idea if she’s going to run her mouth off or not, but it’s a pretty sure bet the two old biddies behind her will. I suggest you get back to Jim’s post haste, tell him what happened; he can call me to let me know if you’re still around or if we need to find you a new doctor somewhere else.”

“Right.” Dean quickly took control of the situation, moving immediately into protective big-brother mode as he helped Sam get dressed. “We have a place to go, but I’m not sure it will work for us now. Ready Sammy?”

“Yeah.” Sam was subdued; all the joy from finding out the sex of the twins was gone, replaced with fear for the future. 

They left the room to find the two older women still standing in the hallway, apparently waiting for them. The taller of the two pointed at Sam. “You’re going to Hell, young man, you’re an abomination. It says in Leviticus, 'Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable.”

Dean grabbed Sam’s arm and dragged him away, his eyes shooting daggers at the two women. “Shut up, you old bitch, you’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“YES! You should be stoned to death, the both of you, your bones broken and your flesh split for your transgressions against the LAW OF GOD!” the second woman cried out. “Your blood must atone for your sins!”

“Yeah, yeah, and the Bible also says fish sucks but I’ve seen your fat ass chowing down at the oyster bar. Go forth and bleed over that, you stupid sluts!” Dean yelled as Sam yanked him out the back door. “Funny how you never hear religious nuts yelling about how God hates fags AND scallops,” Dean added just before the door could shut on his nose.

“What?” he asked in response to the glare Sam was shooting at him.

“Just add fuel to the fire they’re planning to roast me over, why don’t you, Dean,” Sam groused as he slid into the car.

“Huh? Don’t worry, Sam, you’ll be fine. I won’t let the mean old ladies hurt you,” Dean teased. 

“I’m not that worried about the mean old ladies,” Sam pointed out. “It’s their mean young sons and grandsons I’m concerned with.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean said all joking gone from his voice. “They’d have to get past me, and you know that will never happen.” They pulled out into traffic and headed for Pastor Jim’s. “Nothing and nobody is going to hurt you or our girls unless it’s over my dead body.”

“I rather hope it doesn’t come to that,” Sam said dryly. “You’d have trouble ‘protecting’ me–not that I can’t take care of myself–if you were dead.”

“Yeah, normally I’d say you can take care of yourself, but now? And another few months down the road? Have you tried any serious working out since you got–since I got you pregnant–shut up. Have you? How’s your balance? How are you doing kicking out with your belly in the way? What if someone should punch you in the stomach? What then? No, Sammy, right now you’re vulnerable, you and our babies, and we need to be prepared for anything now that our secret is out.”

“At least they don’t know you’re the father. Leviticus has something to say about brotherly love, too.”

“Stupid, fucking witchie bitches,” muttered Dean.

“Witchie bitches?”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

”You’re going to be such a fine example for our children,” Dean snorted. 

“Yeah pot, here’s the kettle.”

“And here’s the house. Get out and get packed so we can get to the cabin before the lynch mob shows up. We need to do some serious re-planning.” Dean turned off the ignition and hopped out of the car. Sam followed slowly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Tired. We’re stocking up on condoms after the girls are born, I’m not going through this again.” Sam followed his brother into the house to find Pastor Jim sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee and a sour look on his face.

“David called you?” Dean asked.

“He did. What a mess,” Jim replied. “At least the cabin is ready for you and you can hide out there until we figure out what to do next.”

Sam plopped down onto the couch and tucked his feet under the middle seat cushion. Dean slid to the floor in front of him and leaned his head back against Sam’s thigh.

“I guess it was too much to hope that we’d be lucky enough to actually have everything go smoothly,” Sam said.

“Just doesn’t happen like that to a Winchester,” Dean added morosely.

“Well, it’s not the end of the world, yet, boys. Nothing may happen–” he paused at the twin looks of disbelief turned his way. “Okay, so we should just expect something to happen. I’ve already called Bobby, and after he was finished laughing at the thought of you boys raising two girls, he said he’d start looking for another doctor.” 

“We’ll have to make sure ‘Grandpa Bobby’ gets lots of opportunities to bond with his new little granddaughters’…. diapers,” Sam chortled.

“And the burping,” said Dean, “with added spitting up. See who’s laughing then.” He bounced his head off Sam’s thigh. “Come on, little mother, let’s get our stuff packed up.”

“Stop calling me that.” Sam followed his brother up the stairs.

“Yeah, sorry, there’s really nothing little about you, is there?” Dean grinned and ducked the hand Sam swatted at him. “Getting slow, there, Sammy boy. Need to get your reflexes sharpened.”

“I’ll sharpen something on you, if you don’t stow it, and it won’t be my reflexes.”

___________________ 

They hadn’t finished packing when the front doorbell rang. A quick glance at each other and both pulled out their respective guns, sticking them in the back of their jeans.

“I’ll go down, the car’s parked right out front so they’ll know one of us is here. You stay put,” Dean ordered. “Pastor Jim and I will take care of this, then we’ll get you out to the cabin as soon as they’re gone.”

Sam opened his mouth shutting it almost as quickly. Sam nodded at his brother, mouth grim. From the expression on Sam’s face, Dean realized Sam understood that it wasn’t just him anymore he had to consider the babies’ safety now.

Dean got downstairs to find a small group of people, a group that included the two biddies from the hospital, standing on the front porch confronting Jim. They were demanding he turn over the two sinners. Jim, for his part, hadn’t said a word in response. 

“There he is! The sinner, the–”

“Mrs. Riley, please be quiet,” an elderly, white-haired gentleman said. “We have no proof that he’s sinned. He’s not pregnant.” 

“He was with–”

“MRS. RILEY. Association doesn’t equal guilt.” The man turned to Dean. “I’m Rev. Reynolds and we’re here to ascertain the validity of these two good ladies claim that the young man with you in the hospital this morning is indeed with child.”

“You mean is my brother pregnant? I think that’s pretty obvious,” Dean spit out.

“He’s your brother? Then you’re not the father.” 

Since the latter was not posed as a question Dean didn’t bother with it. “Yes, he’s my little brother and you’ll get near him over my dead body.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to talk about dead bodies. We’d simply like to meet with your brother, Mr…?”

“No.”

“The fruits of his evil must be cast away, only then and with the grace of God, can the unclean be made pure and restored to His sight,” babbled Mrs. Riley.

Dean did a double take. They wanted to what? “You’re not touching my brother. He doesn’t need cleansed of anything. You’re trespassing on private property, get off.”

Reynolds took a step forward.

Dean matched his step. “Does ‘over my dead body’ not mean anything to you? I can easily change that to ‘over your dead bod–’”

“Dean.” At Pastor Jim’s quiet voice, Dean moved back into the house. Jim continued speaking to the group in front of them. “As Dean has pointed out, this is private property and you are trespassing. If you’d like to speak to the young man in question, I suggest you contact the local authorities and get a search warrant. Although,” he paused as if something had just occurred to him, “you might find that a little difficult since he hasn’t broken any law. Good afternoon, Reverend, gentlemen, ladies.”

Jim shut the door and took a deep breath. “As soon as they’ve left–and we’ve made sure they’re nowhere near the house or grounds–park the car in the barn, and the two of you walk to the cabin. We want them to think … Dean?”

Dean was slumped against the wall. This just wasn’t happening. He looked up at Pastor Jim, the lines around his eyes and mouth showing how tired and worried he was. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered softly. “I’m… scared. For Sam, for our baby girls…”

“It will be okay, Dean. I know you don’t believe, but Sam and I have faith enough for all of us. I firmly believe God has a plan and a reason for everything that happens. These babies were meant to be; if they weren’t part of God’s plan the lack of a condom would not have had consequences. Between us all, we’ll keep Sam and your children safe.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he pasted his game face back in place. “From your lips to God’s ears, Pastor Jim? You just keep the line open to the Man upstairs and I’ll keep my guns oiled and my knives sharp.”

Loud clumps on the stairs signaled Sam’s arrival. “Are they gone?”

“I’ll go check,” Jim said. 

Dean spent the time Jim was gone filling Sam in on what had happened while he’d been upstairs. Apparently, Sam had been able to hear parts of the conversation but not all and what he had heard obviously scared him if the wide eyes and wobbly chin were any indication of his current state of mind.

“They want to kill the babies, don’t they? Make me abort them. I won’t.”

“They can want all they…want, Sam. It’s not gonna happen,” Dean assured him. “It’s not.”

“We won’t let it happen,” Jim repeated, coming back inside. “They’re gone, not a fanatic in sight.”

“Okay, I’m going to put my baby in the barn,” Dean made a painful face, “and then Sam and I can head out to the cabin.”

“I’ll come with you and help you carry your duffles.”

“I can carry–” Sam began.

“Pastor Jim can help us carry our duffles,” Dean said in a tone that brooked no arguments. Sam didn’t say a word in reply. 

Dean knew Sam wasn’t taking this very well. The entire day had been an emotional one for both brothers and when adding in Sam’s hormonal moodiness and his fear for the babies, he was pretty much a wreck by the time they got to the cabin. Jim helped them carry their duffles, brought logs in, got the fire going in the living room and started soup heating on the stove for dinner. In the meantime, Dean shuffled Sam off to the bedroom to lie down for a nap.

“I’m scared,” Sam said softly, unknowingly repeating Dean’s earlier words to Pastor Jim. He was curled on his side in the Queen sized bed, looking up at his brother. 

“I don’t know if I can do this. What if something goes wrong? What do I know about being a father? And I can’t protect myself very well. You’re right; I tried some moves and I’m slow and … if somebody tries to hurt our babies I won’t be able to do anything. Dean, what are we going to do? I’m scared,” he repeated.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t. Hell, I’m scared and I don’t say that very often,” Dean admitted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Pastor Jim told me something. He said God has a plan, and there’s a reason for everything that happens. He believes our babies were meant to be, and I believe him. And he said that you and he have enough faith for all of us. Do you want to leave, Sam? Find another place to stay? Bobby’s looking for a new doctor for you.”

“I want to stay here. I like Dr. Stone, I trust him. I don’t want to start all over again. And who’s to say it won’t be worse somewhere else? At least here we know who the ‘enemy’ is.”

Dean gently brushed the bangs away from Sam’s eyes, letting his thumb rub soothing circles against Sam’s temple. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. And it’s another chick-flick moment in the Winchester house,” Sam sniffled, eyes watering. “With two girls in our future we’d better get used to it.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Wake me up for dinner?”

“Such as it is.” Dean leaned over and gently licked Sam’s lips till they opened, then slipped his tongue inside for Sam to suck. They kissed like that for a few minutes as Sam’s eyelids slowly lowered, and his breathing evened out. 

Dean sat watching Sam sleep and listening to Jim putter around in the kitchen. The cabin wasn’t large; it had two small bedrooms, one that was currently filled with various baby paraphernalia, a living room and a kitchen with a small table and chairs. It was built with logs matching the surrounding forest and unless you were within ten feet of the building you wouldn’t even know it was there. 

While it had electricity and a gas stove, nobody had gotten around to adding in the heating system yet. They were going to have to rely on the large fireplace in the living room and the stove in the kitchen to keep them warm when it got colder. Dean hoped there was hot water at least; heating water on the stove to take a bath wasn’t his idea of fun at all. 

The cabin was also off the proverbial beaten path making the likelihood of hikers stumbling on it by mistake almost impossible. A specially constructed brush ‘gate’ artfully hid the actual path from Pastor Jim’s house to the cabin. Yes, they were safe here for the time being. 

Dean bent over and kissed Sam’s forehead. “I love you,” he whispered to his sleeping brother before getting up and making his way to the front of the cabin.

Pastor Jim was standing in front of the fireplace watching the flames, his forehead wrinkled in thought. Dean came over and stood next to him checking out the fire for himself.

“Looks like a normal burn to me.”

“What? Oh, yeah, I was thinking,” Jim said.

“Dean chuckled. “That’s a relief. For a minute there I was afraid you were going to start conjuring something. A miracle would be nice right about now.”

“Everything will work out.”

“I keep telling Sam that. I just gotta convince myself,” Dean sighed. Before he could continue his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and flipped it open. “You know that miracle I wanted? We could use it right about now.”

He handed the phone to Pastor Jim. A set of coordinates was illuminated on the screen. Dad had finally decided to check in.

“We are so screwed,” Dean said.


	3. Chapter 3

“What are you going to tell him?” Pastor Jim asked.

“Before or after I shoot myself? First we’re going to research the coordinates and see what it is. Then we’re going to call Bobby and see if he can find someone to take care of the problem, then… I don’t know,” Dean replied with a grimace. “Cry?”

“I doubt tears will solve anything,” Jim said dryly. “Especially when it comes to your father. I suggest you sidestep as much as possible rather than doing any out and out lying to him. If it comes to that.”

“He probably won’t even realize we didn’t take care of the problem,” Sam said bitterly, padding up behind them. “It’s not like he ever returns our calls.”

“Sam, your father–” Paster Jim began.

“Please, don’t say ‘your father loves you boys’,” Sam spit out. “We’ve heard it over and over again ad nauseum. We know he loves us. He just loves his revenge and search for the demon more.” He glared at Dean, almost daring him to contradict his statement.

“That wasn’t a very long nap, and what did you do, tiptoe down the stairs?” Dean ignored the goad.

“Losing your edge? You didn’t hear me?”

“The fire was too loud.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam glanced around the room. “Dinner?” 

“Bubbling away on the stove,” Jim answered. “I’m going to head back to my house, keep an eye out for any nasty busy-bodies that might decide to sneak back. Depending on how things develop, we may want to call in the reserves on this, bring Bobby out, maybe Caleb.”

“Yeah, we’ll see how it goes,” Dean agreed, walking Jim to the door. “Thanks. For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Dean. I’ll see you later, Sam.” Jim raised his voice a little. “Enjoy the soup, I slaved over it!”

“Yeah, you and Mrs. Campbell,” Sam yelled back, laughing. 

Dean shut the door behind the priest. He found Sam in the kitchen ladling Chunky Chicken Soup into bowls. “Wonder if we have crackers,” Dean mused, randomly opening a cupboard door. “Yeah! Crackers.” Setting them on the small kitchen table, he grabbed a bowl from Sam and sat down.

“You didn’t sleep very long,” Dean observed between satisfied slurps.

“Phone woke me.”

That was puzzling. “My phone?”

“No, mine. Why, did he call you, too?”  
“Dad called me. Did he call both of us?” Dean flicked a piece of cracker at his brother.

“Coordinates? Then why both of us?” Sam continued after Dean nodded. He pulled out his phone. “Is this what you got?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Maybe he was just covering his bases, making sure we got them. Hell, I don’t know. I don’t know how Dad’s head works!” Dean scooped up more soup and sucked it in.

“What are we going to do?” Sam lifted his bowl up and swallowed the last few drops of soup his spoon hadn’t been able to scoop up.

“Want more?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, but I can get it,” Sam said as Dean made a move to rise. “Give me a couple more months when I won’t be able to move and you can wait on me hand and foot.”

“Hand and foot and everything in between,” Dean promised with a grin. Getting back to business, “I thought we could research the job first; see exactly what it is, then give Bobby a call to see if he can find someone to take it over.”

“Dad’ll find out,” Sam said as he got up from the table. “You want more?” 

“Sure. And, yeah, well, we knew he was going to find out about us eventually. It looks like eventually has arrived.”

“He’s going to shit a brick.” Sam set Dean’s bowl down in front of him and plopped back into his chair. “More than one.”

“A good dozen, I’d say,” Dean scowled.

_______________________________________ 

A little research on Sam’s part and Dean was on the phone to Bobby, handing off a werewolf problem and starting what promised to be a nasty slide into a bitter argument further down the road with John Winchester.

“Your daddy isn’t gonna be happy about this…” Bobby let his voice trail off. 

“You got any better ideas, I’m all ears. Sam’s got six ears, so between us we’ll hear you,” Dean snorted.

“Twins. God almighty, are you boys in for the ride of your lives. Baby shit and baby puke–that stuff just don’t disappear, it lingers and gets in your pores, and--”

Dean hung up on Bobby’s hysterical laughter. 

“Making fun of us again?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. This is all just a barrel of laughs to him.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“And we wouldn’t be laughing at him if the shoe were on the other foot?” Sam asked sensibly.

“Like a couple hyenas,” Dean grinned. “What’s wrong?” he asked as Sam frowned.

“Back is hurting. I’m going to bed.”

“Me, too. Nothing else to do so may as well do you.” He leered at Sam.

“How about a back rub?” Sam said over his shoulder as he shuffled off to the bedroom 

“Instead of a blow job?” 

“My back hurts,” Sam repeated as he stripped down to his boxers and lay on the bed, shifting around. “There’s no place to put this stupid fat stomach.”

“Watch it, dude, those are our daughters you’re calling fat and stupid,” Dean commented. He got a pillow and set it underneath Sam’s pelvis. “How’s this?”

“Oooh, better, thanks.” Sam settled his head on his crossed arms and sighed. 

“Good,” Dean said softly. “Now close your eyes and let me do my thing.”

“If you need sex that badly, Dean, I can do your thing for you.”

Dean gently swatted Sam’s ass. “Behave yourself, or you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.” He kissed the center of Sam’s back and began the massage. If his brother’s contented sighs and moans were any indication, Dean had gotten rather good at this over the past few months. 

Once relaxed, it didn’t take Sam long at all to fall asleep and tonight was no exception. Dean kept his hands moving slowly over his brother’s back, listening to his deep breathing. A little longer for good measure and then Dean settled down beside him after carefully pulling the pillow out from under Sam. Another moment or two and Sam rolled over, burrowing in close to Dean. Soon both men were sound asleep.

_________________ 

Dean was still working at the garage. Every morning, Monday through Friday he’d walk the three miles to Pastor Jim’s home, and leave for work as though he were living with the priest. In the afternoons he’d do it in reverse. As winter approached and the days grew shorter he ended up making the walk to the cabin in the dark; Sam made it very clear that upset him, but there wasn’t any way around it. Dean had to work, they had to live in the cabin, ergo, the walk home in the dark.

It didn’t bother Dean. The church, parsonage and the area around it, including the cabin, was all Holy ground limiting the lurkable nasties. He figured it was Sam’s jack-in-box emotions that were causing him to be afraid for Dean and that it would pass once the babies arrived and Sam had other things to concern him.

One potential “nasty”, and it really grated on Dean to think this, was their dad. It had only been a few days since the phone call with the coordinates, so their dad probably didn’t even realize that he and Sam hadn’t followed through. It was guaranteed he’d find out though, whether by off-handedly asking someone about activity in that area, or merely calling Dean or Sam and asking how the job went. Not that he did the latter very often.

As Dean started working on Mrs. Halleron’s ancient 1971 Chevy, his mind worried over their father. He was going to shit several bricks, as Sam joked. He was also going to beat the hell out of Dean, not that Dean planned to give him a chance at that. His biggest fear was their dad figuring out where they were and confronting Sam while Dean was at work. He assumed their dad knew about the cabin, although why he would think his sons were holed up there, Dean didn’t know. 

“Where is he?”

Dean had been so engrossed in his thoughts that he at first believed the person asking the question was looking for his father. On further reflection–and recognizing witchie bitchie lady number two from the hospital–he realized she was asking about Sam.

“Not here.” He’d considered, briefly, playing dumb before deciding it wasn’t worth it. He gave the frizzie-haired woman his best stone face.

“To lie is a wicked sin against God and the way of the wicked is like a deep darkness! You shall be brought down by your own wickedness and that of your brother’s! ”

“If it were up to you, just breathing would be a sin. My brother isn’t here,” which wasn’t a lie, Sam was not at the garage, “so you can just pack up your little Bible and holier than thou attitude and disappear. I’ve got work to do.”

“By sheltering him, you yourself sin. Thus shall you be consumed out of the earth and your wickedness will be no more. You shall dwell with the devouring fire, and the everlasting burnings!” 

“What’s going on?” Dean’s boss came up behind him. “Mrs. Thomson, is there a problem? Did you need help with your car?” His elderly face wrinkled up in puzzlement.

“No, Mr. Washing, I’ve come to face this sinner, to get him to repent his evil ways and give up the man he’s hiding away who’s sinned against God. A wise man fears the Lord and shuns evil! So should he be!” Mrs. Thomson puffed her chest out like a proud peacock while Dean tried not to laugh as his mind added the tail feathers. That was indeed a formidable weapon she was…brandishing in front of her.

“I don’t see that Dean has done any sinning recently; as you can see he’s only trying to get Mrs. Halleron’s car to last a little longer. Now, if you have a problem with his brother, I suggest you take it to him and leave my employees alone. I don’t pay them to stand here and be harassed I pay them to work. Dean?” Mr. Washing jerked his head toward the Chevy. 

“Yes, sir!” Dean immediately made himself scarce, dropping down into the garage pit out of view of Mrs. Thomson and her dangerously puffed out WMD.

“But–.”

“Good-bye, Mrs. Thomson.” 

Footsteps headed in Dean’s direction and soon Mr. Washing was peering down at him, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry about that, Mike,” Dean apologized. “They’ve been hounding us for the last few weeks. I wasn’t expecting one of them to show up here.”

“Not to worry. If she keeps it up I’ll contact the sheriff. Where is your brother?”

Dean thought for a moment, then said, “I think it’s better you don’t know that way you can honestly say you’ve got no idea if anyone asks you. He’s safe, though.” 

“Keep him that way.” His head disappeared and the footsteps took Mike back to his office. 

Dean went back to working on the car, humming a little Metallica to keep him company. Sam was safe; nobody but Pastor Jim and Bobby knew where they were now that they’d technically left the parsonage, and while the townsfolk–all 3002 of them if the two peacocks and their minister were to be believed–still thought Dean was living there, they had no clue about Sam. That would change over Dean’s dead body.

His prime directive, so to speak, since he was four-and-a-half years old had been to take care of Sammy. That now included their two rapidly growing twin girls. He smiled. Sam’s belly was so pushed out he already looked like he’d swallowed a basketball. From the back you couldn’t really tell he was pregnant other than the fact that he stood kind of swaybacked. But from the sides and front, hello baby girls! 

Pregnancy wasn’t fun for either brother, although both were looking forward to the arrival of the twins and already loved them dearly. Dean had resigned himself to dealing with a lifetime of chick-flick moments, and Sam was already stockpiling an emotional reservoir filled with the tears he’d spent the past five months shedding. Happy tears, sad tears, scared tears, no reason at all tears; Dean couldn’t keep track of Sam’s shifting emotions and had been reduced to simply holding his brother whenever he let the tears out.

Pastor Jim merely smiled, while Bobby laughed his ass off every time they got on the phone. In the midst of the hilarity Bobby kept an eye out for their father, though. Everyone figured the man would show up at some point; another set of coordinates had come this morning while Dean was on his way to work and he’d quickly forwarded them to Bobby. It was like living with a time bomb.

By the end of the day Dean was sweaty, smelly and tired. The oil pan just hadn’t wanted to leave its nest in the bed of Mrs. Halleron’s Chevy. By the time he’d wrestled it out, it was time to go home. He was looking forward to dinner. Sam had discovered a talent for cooking and Dean was a willing test subject. So far everything had turned out pretty good.

“See you Monday, Mike,” Dean hollered out to his boss, still in the office trying to make a dent in a large stack of paperwork. In all the months Dean had been working here that stack always seemed to be the same height. He wondered if he should whisper “Christo” at it one day, just to see what might happen. 

“Have a good one, Dean,” came the answering voice buried behind the paper mountain.

Grinning and shaking his head, Dean trudged out to the Impala, stopping dead as he caught site of peacocks one and two sitting in their car across the street watching him with their evil eyes. Dean’s own eyes narrowed as he stared at them; Mrs. Thomson raised her hand and shook her finger at him. Yeah, that was scary. Not. He’d faced down worse things than a couple of ancient crones.

He took out his phone as he drove out of the parking lot and punched speed dial for Pastor Jim. Looking in the rearview mirror confirmed his suspicions: the two women were following him, and not doing it very surreptitiously.

“St. Mary’s Church.” 

“You’re not going to believe this–is Sam in the cabin?–those two old biddies are following me home!”

“Yes, Sam’s at the cabin. The two women from the hospital?” 

“Yeah.” He quickly filled Jim in on what had gone down at the garage. “They obviously didn’t believe me when I said he wasn’t here. I can’t believe they think I’d lead them right to him anyway.”

“I’ll call Sam and tell him what’s going on. They know you ‘live’ here, so I don’t know what they’re hoping to find. I guess we’ll simply have to wait until you arrive.” 

“Yeah. Damn.” Dean flipped his phone shut. He was really tired of all these religious fanatics and their damn crusade to kill his children and ‘save’ Sam. 

Sure enough the two women drove right into the driveway behind Dean, who gave a light tap on his horn to let Pastor Jim know they’d all arrived. He’d barely stopped the Impala before he was pulling the keys out of the ignition and slamming his way through the front door.

“I can’t believe they followed me back here,” he shouted at Pastor Jim. “What the hell do they think they’re going to accomplish?”

“They think Sam is still in the house,” Jim said in a softer tone than Dean. “Why they followed you when they could simply drive up and knock on the door at any time? Simple harassment. Upset you enough that you slip up and reveal Sam’s location.”

“Never,” Dean said. 

“I called Sam,” Jim said before Dean could ask, “and he’s fine. Going to sit tight and wait till you can sneak back.”

“I could go now…no, I can’t. If they come up, they’ll expect to see me. I have to be here. Son of a bitch,” he added under his breath. “I’d say we invite them in and let them search the house, but I don’t have any clothes here.”

“Actually,” Jim grinned, “you do. I dug some used stuff in your size out of the church’s used clothing bin and it’s already up in your room. Should they come in, they’ll see exactly what we want them to see.”

“Let’s invite ‘em in, get this all over with.” Dean moved towards the front door, but before he could open it, his cell rang. Glancing at it, he frowned. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

“I hurt. Dean, my stomach hurts.”

“Like the flu hurts, or like there’s something wrong with the babies hurt?” 

“Yeah, that one. DEAN!”

“Okay, okay. Hang on, Sammy, let me think a minute.” Dean turned to Pastor Jim. “Sam’s having pains, we need to get him to the doctor, but, how, with those damn women out there? Sam? You still there?”

“Yeah. Hurts.”

“I know. Just… are you ready to go? Shoes on–get ready. Can you walk? All three miles?”

“Yeah. Have to, don’t I?”

“Well, yeah, you sort of do. Okay, you get started walking and I’ll meet you. Okay? We can do this, Sammy,” Dean encouraged.

“Okay. On my way.” 

“Okay. I need you to go out and keep those women busy. I’m going to drive the car around to the back of the house, like I’m parking it. Come back inside the house, then go out the back to meet Sam. He can hide in the back seat. Can you call the doctor and let him know we’re on our way?” Dean was halfway out the front door before he’d finished his sentence trusting Jim to do what was needed.

Dean sent his best glare towards the two women ensconced in the car out front as he headed back to the Impala. “I’m going to park my car in the back, ladies,” he shouted at them. “Don’t get up; I can do it on my own. Been driving since I was twelve years old.”

Once he’d parked the car out of sight, he went back into the house via the front door, another Glare of Death pointed at the two old ladies. Pastor Jim was already out there, doing his best to keep them occupied. 

In the front door and out the back and then Dean was racing through the woods desperate to catch up with Sam and get to the hospital. He’d gone perhaps two miles when he heard Sam stumbling through the underbrush.

“Sam!”

“Here,” came with the sound of heavy breathing as Sam came around the corner on the barely-there path. “I’m here.”

Sam stopped in his tracks, swaying slightly. His face was pale except for two bright pink blotches on his cheeks and he was dripping in sweat. Dean cursed at not thinking to bring a bottle of water, and pulled Sam’s arm up over his shoulder for support.

“Pastor Jim called David to let him know what’s going on, so we’ll have this taken care of in no time. Just keep going, we’re almost to the car,” Dean said.

“The women?” Sam asked between panting breaths.

“Pastor Jim again. Dude, we’d be up shit creek without him around. He’s talking to the old biddies, keeping them occupied. Probably matching them Bible verse for Bible verse.”

“Winning, too, betcha,” Sam gasped. 

“Goes without saying. Still hurting?” 

Sam nodded his head.

“Damn.” 

They’d reached the end of the trail–longest couple miles of Dean’s life, he swore–and they peered cautiously through the tree branches. No biddies in sight. Dean got his brother settled in the back of the Impala, covered up with a blanket and proceeded to drive off the property waving cheerfully at the two women who at some point had gotten out of the car, apparently to better argue with the priest.

They made it to the hospital in record time, parking in the rear and slipping in through the back door. Not that there was much of a reason for stealth anymore; after their visit a few weeks ago everyone in town probably knew Sam was pregnant by now.

David met them just inside, and ushered them into their usual room. They got Sam situated on the exam table and the doctor began pressing gently on his abdomen.

“Describe your pain for me, Sam. Are you in pain now? And let me know if I press on anything that hurts.” 

“It feels like when I eat something bad and my stomach gets all tied up in knots. Almost like a really bad case of gas,” Sam blushed.

“Steady pain then, not anything intermittent? Does this hurt?”

“No. Pretty steady. It was off and on this morning, but it’s been nonstop for the last hour or so.” Sam flinched and gasped. “Okay, that hurt.”

“Sorry. I’m going to listen to the girls’ heartbeats now.” He set up the equipment and turned it on. Thwack-thwack-thwack filled the room, with a quieter, faster thwack-thwack joining it. “The loud beat is yours, Sam. The faster ones are the twins. Those are your baby’s heartbeats you’re hearing.” He smiled.

Sam’s eyes were wide and filled with tears as he looked over at Dean and grinned. Dean smiled back and wiggled his eyebrows before turning to the doctor. 

“So, what’s wrong with Sam?”

“How has your lower back felt today, Sam?”

“Aches more than usual. I can’t get comfortable.”

“And when did you have your last bowel movement?” David asked.

“Huh?”

Dean snickered. This was ammunition for many jokes. “He wants to know when you took your last dump.”

“I know what he meant, Dean. I was just surprised, that’s all. About four days ago, I guess. I haven’t been able to um… yeah. Nothing comes out.” Sam gazed up at the ceiling.

“I’m going to check one more thing, but I think all we’re dealing with here is a very uncomfortable case of constipation.”


	4. Chapter 4

32 weeks into the pregnancy.

“I wonder if Bobby and Pastor Jim gave much thought to what this place would be like in the dead of winter,” Sam asked from underneath his cocoon of blankets. 

“Probably not,” Dean replied. He pushed a lock of Sam's rebellious hair away of the pillow and back where it was supposed to be.

Both men were hunkered down beneath several blankets, huddled together in an attempt to stay as warm as possible. As long as they stayed in their nest they were toasty warm, but getting up and facing the day? Minnesota was a cold state and two weeks before Christmas there was snow everywhere.

“They couldn’t have built this shack in Florida?” Dean groused. “I’m gonna freeze all my assets off once I get out of bed.”

“I can warm up those assets for you,” Sam murmured slyly.

“Yeah?” Dean shivered as Sam nibbled his way up from the center of Dean’s chin, teasingly ignoring the full lips as Dean tried to meet Sam’s mouth, enjoying the tingle of beard stubble against his lips.

Slender fingers travelling slowly up his thigh distracted him briefly

Sam’s hazel eyes were gazing at him with such a gentle, loving expression that Dean felt his breath catch. Strong hands cupped his head, and he leaned back into them, smiling, enjoying the roughness of thumbs working their way across his temples and through his hair. 

"Just what kind of assets do you have in your bag?" Dean whispered, mouth heading for an exposed ear as Sam leaned down. Lightly running his tongue around the edge, he laughed in delight at the resulting shiver under his arms.

Taking his ear out of reach of Dean’s talented tongue, Sam grinned at him, hands sliding down to cup rounded buttocks. Sliding up he sat on Dean’s lap, slowly grinding their genitals together. 

Dean gently ran his hands over Sam’s protruding belly, saying hi to the girls before pulling his lover in as close as possible, rocking them slowly to a climax. 

_______________ 

On his way out the front door of Pastor Jim’s house that morning Dean asked if he’d help move the bed into the cabin’s livingroom to take advantage of the fireplace. They’d need the warmer room once the girls were born anyway, and it just made sense to do it now before Sam got too big to move around. He was already having trouble getting up and down out of chairs, and hadn’t tried the couch since Dean’d had to lug him out of it two weeks ago. 

Pastor Jim was ready and waiting when Dean arrived at dusk and together the two men tromped the three miles back to the cabin–after double checking to make sure nobody was hiding behind any bushes. The Rev. Reynolds and his party of do-gooders hadn’t let up at all since they’d discovered that Sam was still somewhere in the county. It was impossible to keep him completely hidden since he needed to go to the hospital for check ups. It wasn’t worth the risk of having the doctor come out here, it would only confirm that Sam was somewhere on the church property then.  
“I had Mrs. Riley outside the garage today. Who was ‘guarding’ you?” Dean asked as the trudged through the woods, flashlights lighting the way ahead. 

“Steven Riley. Mrs. Riley’s son. He was the younger man standing a little behind the group that came to the door the first time.”

“They aren’t going to let up are they?” Dean let out a huge sigh.

“I’m afraid not. They feel very strongly about their beliefs, and the fact that the majority of the country agrees with them certainly doesn’t help your case.”

“Yeah. I wish we could leave and have the babies somewhere else. Wouldn’t be fair to Sam, though, he knows David and trusts him,” Dean was mumbling to himself now. “And we really need to start fresh with the babies where nobody knows Sam gave birth to them. Damn.”

“If you want me to comment on any of that, you’ll need to repeat it a bit louder,” Jim laughed softly. “However, if you were just grousing to yourself, feel free to continue without my input.”

“Sorry. I was talking to myself, I guess.” Dean opened the cabin door, relishing the heat that came out of the livingroom. “Hey, Sam.”

“Hey.” 

Sam was standing dejectedly in front of the fireplace. Dean took off his coat, tossed it on the couch and walked over to his brother. He slipped his arms around Sam, resting his hands on the ‘girls’. “Hey again,” he said softly. “What’s wrong?” 

“We got a phone call from Dad–”

“You didn’t answer it did you,” Dean interrupted, concerned. He did not want Sam having to deal with their father alone.

“Of course not. I let it go to voicemail.” Sam turned around and buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. “He wanted to know why the fuck we hadn’t taken care of the Wendigo he told us about two weeks ago. Not that texting us those stupid coordinates is the same as telling us something,” he added a trifle bitterly. It was business as usual with their father, as far as Sam was concerned.

Dean moved back a little, giving Sam a soft kiss on the chin before rubbing his hands gently over the mound of Sam’s stomach. He knew exactly what was bothering his brother. “We’re not going to be like Dad, Sammy. We’re going to raise our girls right, we’ll keep them safe, keep things as normal as we can knowing what we know, but no matter what, we aren’t going be like Dad.” 

“You have an entirely different situation to deal with,” Pastor Jim said quietly.

The brothers jerked apart, both heads swinging wildly towards the priest.

“I’m sorry,” Jim laughed. 

“We forgot you were here,” Dean said sheepishly as Sam blushed and took a step further away from his brother. Dean reached out and pulled Sam right back next to him.

“It’s all right, Sam,” Jim said reassuringly. “As I was saying, what you boys are going through is completely different that what your father is experiencing. He knows how I feel about how he raised you and I’m not going to get into that with you. But your father’s single-minded obsession to find the demon that killed your mother is his mission in life, not yours. Nothing he does will bring Mary back, and by dwelling on his vengeance… I said I wasn’t going to get into that, didn’t I? I’m sorry. You have a bigger responsibility now,” Jim glanced at Sam’s bulging belly and grinned, “in more ways than one, and it’s time for the both of you to move on with your lives.” 

“You got it into it pretty well for someone who wasn’t going to,” Dean mused. “Dad did what he had to do, and I’ll never change my mind on that. I won’t hate him for giving Sam and I the life he did. I think we’re better for knowing what’s out there, but,” he tightened his hold on his ‘family’, “that doesn’t mean I have to repeat that life with my, with our children. I think we can stay safe as long as we keep vigilant.”

“Oooh, vigilant,” Sam snickered. “Been reading the word for the day toilet paper again, haven’t you?”

“Ha ha. You got my dinner ready, bitch?”

“It’s in the oven, jerk.” Sam glanced over at Pastor Jim. “It’s lasagna and there’s a lot of it if you’d like to stay and help us eat it.”

“No, thank you, I’ll leave you boys to enjoy it. I have a homily to prepare for Sunday and I’d best get to it.” With a nod to both, he started for the door the stopped. “The bed?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, the whole reason you came with me.”

The men made quick work of moving the bed from the back room out to the front, Sam acting as traffic director and general pillow holder. 

“There. You’re all set.” Giving them each another nod, Jim opened the door and outside, quickly disappearing in the darkness. 

Dean busied himself re-making the bed while Sam got dinner on the table. They were halfway through the meal when Dean’s phone rang. Picking it up, he frowned.

“It’s dad.”

Sam set his fork down. “Are we going to answer?”

“No. Fuck, I dunno.” Silence as the phone stopped ringing almost answered the question until Sam’s phone started up. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Well?”

“We may as well. No, let him leave another voicemail. We can at least finish eating.” 

Both men sat quietly as the phone stopped ringing and went to voicemail. Dean watched as Sam pushed the remainder of his lasagna around, eating a few bites before setting his fork down again.

“Done?” 

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I don’t… not again!” as Dean’s phone rang again. “He’s just gonna keep calling. Let’s get this out of the way.”

Dean flipped his phone open. “Dean.”

“Where the hell are you boys and what are you doing?”

“Sam’s been sick. We’re waiting for him to get over it.” Dean rolled his eyes at his brother.

“Sick? What’s wrong?” 

“He caught something and hasn’t been able to shake it. Sorry we didn’t let you know. What’s up with you?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. Yeah, yeah, Dean nodded, that was lame he knew that.

“I’m in Michigan and I need your help with a ghoul.” 

“We can’t, dad, Sam’s still not up to speed, yet.” Dean really didn’t think this conversation was going to end well.

“Leave him and come alone then.”

“I’m not leaving him when he’s sick, dad. What about Caleb or Joshua? Or Bobby?”

“That wasn’t a request; it was an order, Dean.” Their dad’s voice was loud enough Dean had to hold the phone away from his ear. Sam cringed at the shouting and dropped his head into his hands. 

“And I said, no, dad. Not this time. I’m not leaving Sammy.”

There was dead silence on the other end. Dean and Sam looked at each other in confusion. “Dad?”

“This will not happen again, is that understood, Dean? I’ll find someone else this once, but the next time I give you an order like this, you will follow it. And if you can’t make a hunt, you let me know. No more of this, oh-Sam-was-sick shit. Do you understand me?”

Sam had lifted his head back up and was watching him with wide eyes so Dean reached over and patted his hand. It was time to bite the bullet.

“If Sam is sick, dad, then he comes before a hunt.”

“Nothing comes before a hunt. Finding this demon is our number one priority–”

“No, dad, it’s not. Not anymore. Family is more important than anything. I’m not willing to risk Sam’s life-- or mine —on a hunt when one of us isn’t up to par.” Dean closed his phone, shutting off their father’s loud voice.

“Well. I wonder what…” Sam stopped speaking as the Dean’s phone began to ring.

“That’s what.” Dean glanced at his phone to make sure of the caller before turning it off. “He’s pretty pissed.”

“That’s an understatement,” Sam snorted. “I can’t believe you told him finding the demon wasn’t our number one priority any more.”

“It’s the truth. You told me, after I picked you up from Stanford, that nothing would bring mom back, remember?”

Sam nodded. “Or Jess, yeah. And I remember your reaction.”

“Priorities, Sammy. Your life, our girls’ lives, they aren’t worth the price of revenge. Not to me. I’m not so blind that I can’t see the way Dad raised us wasn’t normal–”

“No, really?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“I know, this doesn’t sound like me. I’ve never been a father-to-be before, either. People change. I’ve changed. Can we quit with the chick flick shit now?”

Sam laughed and pushed away from the table. “Only if you do the dishes.” 

“Oh, for a dishwasher…”

“I have a dishwasher,” Sam chuckled, “it’s called Dean.” 

“Har, har.” 

“I thought so.” Sam waddled over to the bed and sank down into the soft mattress pulling the comforter up. “You think Dad’s gonna come looking for us?”

“Probably,” Dean said, watching the sink fill with soapy water. “He doesn’t know we’re here; maybe he doesn’t know there is a ‘here’. We need to ask Pastor Jim if Dad knows about this place.” 

“I don’t remember coming here as a kid, so maybe he doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but if he wants to find us, you know he will.”

“We can hope it’s after the babies are born then, because I sure don’t want to have to face him looking like a beached whale,” Sam said dryly.

“You don’t look like a beached whale.”

“Ha. Says you.”

“Yeah. Says me. And I’m the big brother, so what I say goes.” Dean washed the last of the dishes and left them in the drainer to dry. He walked over to the bed and plunked down next to his brother. “Those are our babies in there, Sam.” He patted the protruding belly. “If that was just lots and lots of pie, then yeah, you’d look like a beached whale and I’d shoot your ass for getting out of shape. But it’s not pie–”

“Hardly.”

“–and it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful and… fuck. Your emo hormone problems are obviously contagious,” Dean finished with a groan.

“Awww, you love us, daddy Dean, that’s all,” Sam teased, dimples appearing in each cheek. “You can’t help yourself. Dean Winchester, Master of the Chick Flick Moment!” 

“Never.” Dean played patty-cake on Sam’s belly, grinning all the while. His eyes widened when he felt corresponding movement beneath his hands. “Hey. Someone’s awake.”

“Yeah, thanks. They were nice and quiet, sound asleep, until you started playing the March of the Toy Soldiers down there. Now one of them’s doing high steps on my bladder. Move.” Sam pushed his brother’s hands away, crawled awkwardly out of bed and headed for the bathroom. 

“Sorry,” Dean called out after him, laughing hysterically.

“You wouldn’t laugh if the shoe were on the other foot,” Sam shot back from the other room.

“Wouldn’t be funny then,” Dean shuddered. “Want me to rub your back for you,” he asked as Sam came back to bed.

“Oh, yeah…”

__________________________ 

Two days later Pastor Jim stopped Dean on his way home from work. It was now deep winter and snow was piled high on the ground. Not for the first time Dean wished they were down in Florida, nice and warm.

“What’s up?”

“Your dad’s calling around looking for you. I got a call from him, and Bobby called me a few hours ago to tell me he’d received one also. I’m assuming Caleb, Joshua, all the usual suspects are being contacted regarding your whereabouts.”

“I’m not surprised,” Dean said, shivering. “Can we take this inside? I’m about to freeze off some very important parts and I don’t think it would make Sam too happy to find them missing.” Dean grinned at the resulting snort from Pastor Jim.

“Inside it is. Wouldn’t want to upset the mother-to-be.” Jim opened the door. “After you.”

“Thanks. Yeah, dad called a couple days ago wanting help with a hunt and read us the riot act when I said no. I told him Sam was sick.” Dean took his gloves and hat off in the warmth of the kitchen.

“And he accepted that?” Jim asked in surprise.

“Hell, no. Are you kidding? You know him better than that. He wanted me to come alone and about had a heart attack when I said Sam was more important than the hunt.”

“Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that one.” Jim’s eyebrows arched. “He must have been… upset.”

“Oh, that’s putting it mildly. I actually ended up hanginguponhim.”

“You what?”

“I hung up on him. In the middle of his rant. I thought Sam was gonna have a heart attack when I did that.” Dean leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “We were just waiting to see what happened next. Does he know about the cabin?”

“He knew when we built it, but I can’t say if he remembers it now. He’s never used it.”

“I reckon he’ll figure out where we are soon enough. There’re only so many places we’d go to hole up and you’re at the top of the list. All he has to do is ask around and he’ll know we’re here. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open and hope he shows up when I’m home. I don’t want Sam to have to face him alone.”

“No, that wouldn’t be a good thing. He’ll take one look at your brother and go ballistic. I’ll keep my eyes open, and Bobby’s promised to do the same. Hopefully we can head John off at the pass, so to speak.” 

“If we’re lucky. Not that luck is exactly a Winchester’s middle name.” Dean put his mittens and hat back on and headed for the back door. “Let us know what you hear, if anything.”

“Will do.”

Dean was halfway to the cabin when his cell rang. It was Pastor Jim.

“Your dad just pulled up into the drive.”

“Shit. Stall him as long as you can? Let me get to Sam and warn him. Shit.” Dean started to run through the snow.

“I’ll do my best. Good Luck.” 

“SAM!” Dean was yelling before he made it to the front door, and Sam yanked it open, eyes wide and worried.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Dad’s at the house,” Dean panted. “Pastor Jim’s gonna stall him as long as possible, but he’s gonna be out here sooner than later.”

Dean watched as Sam visibly wilted in front of him. “We knew this was coming. I wish it were later rather than now, though. I’m… Dean, I’m afraid of what he might do. He’s going to be furious.”

“He’ll have to go through me to get to you, Sammy. Nobody is going to hurt you or our babies.” It made Dean sick to think that he might have to fight his own father, but knowing that volatile Winchester temper, and their dad’s unfortunate tendency to act first and think later, he knew that a fight was inevitable.

Dean’s phone rang and he clicked it open.

“We’re on our way.” 

“Both of you?”

“Damn right,” said Jim. “You can guess why.” 

And Dean could, especially since he was able to hear his father in the background going off at Jim, his sons, and the world in general.

“Thanks. We’re ready.” He tucked his phone in his pocket and looked at his brother. “Sammy. Come here. Chick flick moment.” He took his brother in his arms, Sam wrapping arms around him, hanging on just as tightly. “It’ll be okay,” Dean whispered. “What dad thinks doesn’t count anymore. It’s you and me and our girls. That’s all that matters. Just remember Iloveuyou,” he finished quickly.

Sam’s laugh had a distinctive tearful shake to it. “What was that again? You what?”

“Smart ass.” Dean quickly kissed Sam before letting him go. “You stay behind me, you hear me? Don’t be all he-man macho, remember you’re protecting our babies.”

Before Sam could reply the door crashed open and slammed against the wall. John Winchester, tall, dark and furious strode through the opening and into the small cottage.

“You never heard of knocking?” Sam spoke up before anyone else could speak. Dean groaned, so much for keeping a low profile.

“Hey, Dad how goes it?” Dean attempted to get attention back on him.

“What?” John looked angrily at his eldest son. “Just what the hell is going on here, Dean?”

“What do you mean?” Dean casually moved till he was standing in front of Sam, hopefully hiding at least one of the girls. “Nothing’s going on.”

“You’re hiding,” John pointed out. “From me.”

“Why would we hide from you?” Dean asked innocently.

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? You back out of hunts, you back out of The Hunt, don’t give me a good reason why, don’t tell me where you are, what do you expect me to think?”

“I expect you to listen when I tell you we aren’t going to be hunting for a while. That Sam’s not up to par right now,” oh, shit, attention back on Sam, wrong move, “and that we want to be left alone. That’s what I expect from you.”

“You don’t talk to me that way, boy, I’m your father and I expect to be obeyed. When I tell you to do something--”

“And I’m an adult, dad, we both are. We’re both older than you and mom were when you had me. So don’t come marching in here with your ‘I’m the father and what I say goes’ crap, because it doesn’t cut it anymore.” Dean almost couldn’t believe the words he was hearing were actually coming out of his mouth. From the look on his dad’s face, neither could he. After all, Dean had been John’s yes-man his entire life, so this attitude was pretty much coming out of the blue, at least for John.

“And how about you, Sam? What do you have to say for yourself?” John asked. He started to move around Dean, but was stopped by an arm across his chest. “What?”

“Stay back from him,” Dean said quietly.

“What? Why?” John made a sharp move and shoved Dean far enough out of the way that Sam was clearly visible. “Oh my God. What the hell have you done, Sam? How the fuck did this happen?” 

“The usual way,” Sam shrugged. “We forgot the condom and voila. You knew I had the gene, dad, we were both tested at puberty.”

“I certainly never gave it another thought. I never expected a son of mine to be spreading his legs and waving his ass in the air for another man. Whatever possessed you to do a thing like that? Or,” John paused, “is that what it was? Were you possessed and this is the result? If so, son, we can fix this, get rid–”

“NO!” It came from both boys simultaneously.

“No?”

“No,” Sam said with a bit less fervor. “We… I want these babies. I wasn’t possessed. It wasn’t planned, but now that it’s happened I’m happy about it.”

“Well, I’m not,” John snapped.

“Well, I don’t care whether you are or not. You’re not the one who’s pregnant, or who’s going to be raising these babies. So it doesn’t matter what you think,” Sam snapped right back.

“You whoring little bastard,” John said. Before anyone could move, John slung his arm out and backhanded Sam across the face, knocking him off balance and onto the floor. “Dean would never get into this situation. But then, you never could match up to Dean, could you? You’re pathetic, weak, nothing like your brother.” He was pulling his leg back to get off a kick when his foot was grabbed and he was yanked back away from Sam.

“You want to beat someone up, dad? Then pick on someone who can fight back,” Dean said fiercely. “Picking on a man who’s pregnant and can’t fight back is chicken shit.”

“I don’t have problem with you, Dean,” John said, turning back to Sam.

“Oh no?” Dean grabbed his dad’s shoulder and pulled him back around so they were face to face. “Let’s ignore the fact that you just hit my pregnant brother–Pastor Jim, can you make sure he’s okay–let’s focus on the little fact that I’m the one who got him pregnant. Those are my twins he’s carrying. You have a problem with me now, dad?”

Dean gave his dad’s shoulder a little shove then prepared for all Hell to break loose.


	5. Chapter 5

“You?” John sputtered. “You fucked your brother? Got him pregnant? Your brother?” He stood there a moment in apparent shock before drawing his arm back, hand fisted.

“Sam’s okay,” Pastor Jim said quickly.

Dean spared a brief glance down to see Sam leaning back against the priest, a bruise blossoming on his cheek, eyes sad.

“Oh, yeah, bring it on, dad.” His attention back on their father, Dean easily blocked the fist heading for his face, counteracting with a punch of his own. 

Before Dean could spare a thought for the fact he was fighting his father, they were nose to nose in a lockdown, arms and legs flying in all directions. They were evenly matched and Dean was doing the best he could to keep his anger in check and not let it take over. That would be a sure way to lose the fight.

A fist to the side of the head had him briefly seeing stars before he got in a strong jab of his own to John’s nose. Before long they were locked in a parody of an embrace, each trying to get the other to the ground. 

Dean felt hands on his arms trying to move him away from his father. It must be Pastor Jim because Sam was pulling their father back. John was blindly hitting out and with a heave he tossed Sam away from him.

“Sam, be careful,” Dean yelled, trying to reach out for his brother and missing. “Sam!”

Time seemed to slow as Dean watched his brother crash belly first into the kitchen table, smashing it and landing on the floor surrounded by pieces of wood. Sam tried to get up, sluggishly shaking his head, before his eyes rolled back and he dropped down again, unconscious.

“No, no, no, no. Sam.” Dean shoved John out of the way in his haste to get to his brother.

Sam was lying partway on his side, and Dean dropped to the floor next to him, hand searching for a pulse. It was there, thank God. “Sam, wake up. Come on baby open your eyes for me. Let me know you’re all okay. Sam.”

“We need to get him to the hospital, Dean.” Jim lifted Sam’s shirt and they both saw the bruise that was already forming across his belly. “We don’t know what slamming into that table did to the babies.”

“You grab his legs and I’ll take his shoulders,” Dean said, putting action to words. “And you, dad. I want you gone when we get back, you hear me? That’s an order,” he spit out sarcastically. “Don’t ever show your face anywhere near Sam or our children,” he added over his shoulder as they carefully carried Sam out the door, leaving John standing alone in the cabin. 

As far as Dean was concerned it took way too long to go the three miles from the cabin back to the Impala. They loaded Sam into the back seat, Dean crawling in with him, holding him close. Pastor Jim stood there for a second then held out his hand.

“Keys?”

“What? Oh.” Dean dug the keys out of his pocket and handed them over. “Can you call David and tell him we’re on our way?” 

“Doing it now.”

Dean let the priest’s soft voice fill in as background noise while he murmured softly to Sam in an attempt at waking him up. Something Sam was gallantly trying to do, if the twitching of his eyelids was any indication, while having little success. 

“Come on Sam, open your eyes. You almost did it try again. I need to know you’re in there and that you’re okay. Sammy, come on, Sammy.” He gently brushed Sam’s hair away from his eyes, kissing his forehead. “Wakey, wakey, Sam, please.”

“Urnngh.”

“That’s a start.”

“Hurts.”

“What hurts, Sam? Tell me.”

“Stommm…”

“Your stomach?”

“Hmmm.”

“No, don’t close your eyes. Sam. Come on, open ‘em back up. Sam. Drive faster, Jim.” 

______________________ 

Dean walked back and forth in the waiting room, from the door to the coffee machine and back again. Over and over and over. Sam had been in with David for what seemed like forever and nobody had come out to update him on anything. He clenched his fist and added a kick to the wall during his pacing for good measure. If someone didn’t hurry up and get their ass out here he was going to go back there and demand some answers.

“Dean.” David came up behind him, his face grave.

“Sam?”

“Sit down, Dean.” David motioned to a chair next to Pastor Jim.

“No, just tell me. Quit beating around the bush.” Dean’s jaw clenched.

“We’ve run some tests and we think Sam has what’s called placental abruption. What this means is that the placenta is breaking away, or has broken away from the wall of his uterus. We did an ultrasound and it looks like there’s very little left attached.”

“What do you do in a case like this?” Jim asked, getting up to stand next to Dean.

“We’re going to do a Caesarian and get the babies out of there.”

“But, it’s too early,” Dean protested.

“If we don’t, then there’s a good chance they’ll die due to lack of oxygen. Plus, Sam’s bleeding inside and that’s dangerous for him. He’s just at 32 weeks, so the girls have a very good chance of survival. This really is the only choice there is,” David added sympathetically. “We’re actually lucky in a way.”

“Lucky? How, exactly?”

“Studies have shown that babies carried by men tend to mature faster. And no, we don’t know why this happens, let’s just be grateful that it does. This means that they may not have the respiratory problems most preemies have–they’ll be able to breathe easier,” David clarified. 

“Can I…” Dean cleared his throat and tried again. “Can I see him?”

“Of course. He’s awake. You can be in there when we do the C-section, too. They’ll get you gowned and masked. We’ll be giving him a spinal that will numb him from the chest down.”

“When?”

“As soon as I get scrubbed and he’s moved into the operating room. We really don’t have time to waste.”

“Well, let’s go then.” Dean flapped his hands at the doctor to get him moving. He turned to Pastor Jim, “I’ll let you know, I’ll…”

“Don’t worry about me, Dean. I’ll be here doing my job,” Jim said.

“Right. Yeah. Later…”

“David, what about Sam?” Dean asked as they started down the hallway.

“Sam’s doing fine. He’s not in any danger that we can see now. Once we open him up; well, there’s always the possibility of complications in a surgery like this, but I honestly don’t think we’re going to run into any. There really is no choice here,” David repeated softly.

“Yeah. I get that. Don’t like it, though,” Dean grumbled. 

The next few minutes were a blur of motion for Dean; he was helped into a gown and little slippers to put over his shoes, then handed a mask and cap. He slipped through the door into the operating room to find Sam propped on his side, tears sliding down his face and his bottom lip clenched between his teeth. 

“Sam.” Dean hurried over, standing helplessly for several seconds before wiping the tears from Sam’s face with a gentle hand. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re all going to be fine. Why are you crying?”

“Dad tried to kill our babies. He wanted to kill them. Now they’re hurting and in pain,” Sam sobbed. “How could he? He’s our father, he’s supposed to love us. I can’t believe he did this. Our own father.”

“I know. I know, Sammy. I’m not even going to think about him right now. He’s wrong, what he did was very wrong, and I don’t think I can ever forgive him for this. He’d better be gone when we get back, that’s all I can say,” Dean spit out, angry and hurting for both himself and Sam.

“He’s our dad and he wanted to kill his own grandchildren,” Sam cried. “What if they aren’t okay? What if he did hurt them? Our dad.”

“David said they have a really good chance to make it,” Dean said. He wasn’t too sure whom he was trying to console more, himself or Sam, but it didn’t seem to be working in either case. “You have to calm down, Sam, you have to be calm for the babies. They can feel when you’re upset, so you need to be calm. Come on, baby, stop crying. It’s going to be okay. Just a little while longer and we’ll be meeting our little girls.”

Sam continued to weep, mumbling between sobs and sniffles, words like dad and babies popping out every once in a while. While they’d known their dad wasn’t going to take this well, and truthfully, Dean had pretty much expected exactly what happened, it was increasingly obvious that Sam had perhaps been hiding partially behind some rose-colored glasses.

“Breathe, Sam. You need to calm down. Shhhhh.” Dean gently ran his hand through Sam’s hair in a soothing motion, over and over, until Sam began to breathe easier. 

“Yeah,” Sam sniffed. He took a deep breath. “I can do calm.” 

“So,” Dean leaned close and whispered, “what are we going to name them? We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Emma. Jess and I… Emma for the first one?”

“Emma for the first one. Mary for the second? For mom?” Dean suggested a bit hesitantly.

“Emma and Mary. I like that. Hear that babies? You have names now.” 

Sam gazed up at Dean, eyes wide and frightened. Leaning down, Dean kissed him, not very gently, on the lips. “I love you, bitch.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” Sam murmured back. 

Dean turned as the door opened and three women bustled in. “Looks like we’re about to get started.”

“We need to administer your spinal now, Sam.” The taller of the three looked over at Dean. 

“Right…” Dean peered at her nametag. “Janet. Will this hurt him?” 

“It won’t hurt, exactly,” Janet explained. “But it will be uncomfortable, and he needs to stay completely still since we’ll be inserting a needle directly into his spine.”

“It will help if you let him put his forehead on your shoulder,” suggested the other woman. “He’ll need to bend his back; it will open the spaces between his vertebrae. Put your arms around him, like you’re hugging him, like this.” She positioned Dean’s arms for him. “I’m Dr. Thomas, the anesthesiologist.”

“You’re going to be fine, Sam,” Janet said. “We’ve done this many, many times.”

“For a guy?” Dean asked, curious.

“Well, no,” Dr. Thomas said, smiling. “Sam’s our first, but a spine is a spine no matter who it’s attached to.”

“You don’t mind that I’m a pregnant guy?” Sam asked softly.

“No,” the doctor answered quietly, hands busy behind Sam’s back. “My brother… no, Sam, it doesn’t bother me. Now, you’re going to feel a little bit of a sting here. Take a deep breath and hold very still.”

Sam did as instructed, nose wrinkling, eyes closing, a tiny moan slipping out. Dean held on tighter, resting his head against Sam’s. He was beyond caring what anyone thought anymore.

“You’re doing great, Sam. Go ahead and breathe now, but don’t move,” Janet said. “Almost done. Hang in there, sweetie, just another minute. There, all finished.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, they’re not fun,” Janet smiled. “We need to get you on your back now. This is Tina,” she motioned to the third woman. “She’ll be hooking you up to all your IV’s.” 

A large strap was tightened over Sam’s thighs. “This is so you won’t fall off the table,” Janet explained. “Dean, we need you to step back now, just for a few minutes, till we get Sam situated.”

“I might fall off?” Sam asked, his voice cracking, eyes following Dean as he moved to the far side of the room.

“No, it’s just a precautionary measure. I’ve never had anyone fall off the table,” Janet soothed. 

“You need to straighten your arm out, Sam,” Tina said. “Can you do that for me, please?”

“I feel like Jesus on the cross,” Sam said.

“Yeah, a pregnant Jesus,” Dean snorted. Several more gowned doctors, nurses–people with masks and head coverings, anyway–had come in and he was having a difficult time seeing what was being done to his brother. 

Finally, Janet motioned for him to come closer. “You need to put on your mask and cap now.”

Dean did so, and finally got a good look at his brother. In addition to the strap across his thighs, Sam’s left arm was spread flat out to his side, an IV running into it. He was blanketed in bluish paper drapes with only his belly, covered in some orangish liquid, poking through. The room was now filled with people and equipment. 

Before Dean could say anything, David came through the door, gowned, masked and capped. “Hey, Sam, are you ready to meet your girls?” 

Sam slowly nodded his head, right hand reaching out for Dean, who grasped it tightly. “We’re ready.”

“It’s going to be fine, Sam, just relax and let us do all the work for you. It’ll be over before you know it. Everyone else ready?”

At the various affirmative responses, David got to work. A woman was standing next to him, a large towel in her hands. Dean guessed she was a nurse and the towel was for Emma. He wondered how long it took to cut a baby out of someone’s belly. Would their girls be okay? Was Sam doing all right? 

Dean glanced down at Sam, and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. Sam didn’t say anything, simply staring back at Dean and clutching his hand tighter.

“Here we go; who do we have here?” 

“Emma, that’s Emma,” Sam gasped. “Dean, there’s Emma!”

“I see, Sam, I see.” That was a baby? That tiny, red, wrinkled… thing? That was their Emma?

“Why isn’t she crying? Is she okay? Dean? What’s going on?” Sam’s worried voice broke through Dean’s thoughts.

“I’m sure she’s–there, she’s crying, Sam, hear her?” The nurse with a towel had taken Emma over to a … Dean had no idea what that contraption was. “Want me to go look?”

Sam slowly let go of Dean’s hand and nodded.

“This is Emma? Is that what I heard?” The nurse smiled up at Dean as she briskly, albeit gently, rubbed the newborn.

“Yes, Emma. She’s our Emma.” Dean could barely get the words out. “She’s okay?”

“She’s going to be fine. Listen to her, quite a set of lungs there. We’ll be keeping them both in the NICU for a while to make sure everything is working as it should, but she seems to be a very healthy little girl.”

Dean went back over to Sam. “She’s fine, she’s healthy.” He leaned down closer, “she’s beautiful, wait till you see her.”

“Chick flick moment,” Sam smiled, tired. “What about Mary?”

“This is Mary?” David asked as he handed baby number two to a second towel-holding nurse.

“Yes,” Dean said. “Emma’s sister Mary.” 

Emma’s sister Mary apparently had her own healthy set of lungs.

“Hear her, Sammy? That’s Mary.” Dean said, crying. “And here’s Emma.”

The nurse stepped up to Sam, holding a tightly wrapped little bundle with a pink cap. “Here she is.” 

Sam let go of Dean’s hand and reached out to gently run a finger against Emma’s cheek. “She’s so tiny. Are you sure she’s okay?”

“Yes, she just didn’t have a chance to finish growing,” the nurse assured him.

“And Mary?” Sam was now crying so hard it was difficult to understand him.

“Shhhh, Sam, it’s okay,” Dean said. “Here comes Mary.”

“Ohhh,” Sam sniffled.

Except that Mary was wearing a little yellow cap, she looked just like Emma.

“We need to take them to the NICU, now.” Janet suddenly appeared next to Dean. “The doctor needs to finish up with Sam, but if you’d like to come along, you can see where your girls will be staying for the next few weeks.” 

“Okay. That okay, Sam?”

“Yeah, hurry back, though.”

Dean followed several people out of the room trying to keep track of the little wheelie things his girls were being transported in. Wheelie thing, hah. While he knew a lot about first aid for hunters, he realized he knew nothing at all about babies and their birthing equipment. He had a feeling he was going to be learning a lot in the next few weeks.

He watched as everyone scurried around, putting the girls in their own incubators–that one he knew–and attaching all sorts of wires and things to their tiny bodies. Little sticky patches on their chests, something around their ankles…

“It’s okay, Dean.” 

Janet came up beside him and handed him a kleenex. He looked at her, then at the tissue. He hadn’t even realized he was crying, and he hastily wiped his eyes and cheeks, sniffling.

“I have no idea what everyone is doing,” he admitted.

“I’d be surprised if you did. The patches are to measure their heartbeats. That’s a sensor wrapped around their foot and it measures their oxygen, so we make sure they’re getting enough. They’re doing very well, Dean.”

“They’re so small.” Dean’s voice was barely audible.

“They’re actually a good size for their age. They’re lucky they were carried by a male or they’d be much smaller and would most likely need oxygen. Emma is 3 pounds, 13 oz and 14 inches long and Mary is 3 pounds 11 oz and 15 inches long.”

Dean was quiet as he watched for a little longer. The next time Janet came near he corralled her to find out where Sam would be.

“I’m betting he’s ready to go to his room if he’s not there already. Hang on and I’ll find out for you,” she said with a smile. 

____________________ 

Dean quietly pushed open the door to Sam’s private room to find Pastor Jim sitting by the bed watching as Sam worked at strange contraption he was holding to his chest.

“What the hell?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. He walked over to the bed and leaned down, giving Sam a kiss and keeping one eye on the weird activity. 

“It’s a brtpm,” Sam mumbled as he returned Dean’s, his eyes flitting to the ceiling then back to his business.

“What was that?” Other than great blackmail potential for the next ten years if the look on Sam’s face was any indication. Dean ran his fingers softly across Sam’s upper chest.

“It’s a breast pump,” Pastor Jim offered when it became apparent Sam wasn’t going to say anything more.

“A… a… do you have any idea how weird that sounds?” Dean burst out laughing, he couldn’t hold it in to save his life. He could feel the tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. But, a breast pump. His little brother was using a breast pump to… his little brother… was looking at him with wet, wounded eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Shit.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” Dean took a deep breath and bit the inside of his cheek. Hard. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I wasn’t. Honest.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It just… Sam and a breast pump in the same sentence… Shutting up now.”

“Probably a wise decision,” said Pastor Jim dryly from where he’d been watching Dean make an idiot out of himself. “The milk will be frozen so you can use it to feed the girls when they start eating properly.”

“Right. Of course. I knew that.”

“I doubt it.” Sam glared at Dean while he continued to pump away.

Dean watched quietly for a moment, before asking, “Just how much milk do you have in there anyway? I mean, you don’t have, um, big, um, breasts.” This really was the strangest situation Dean had ever been in.

“Dunno,” Sam answered. “A few ounces maybe. It just takes a while to get it all out. Kind of a small opening, you know? Wanna learn how to pump?” he asked with a wicked glint in his eye.

Dean backed off. “No, no, thanks, you’re doing just fine, Sammy. Just fine. You keep at it, get lots of milk for our babies. Yeah.” 

“Just you wait, Dean,” Sam said with an evil spark in his eye. “Does the term ‘poopy diapers’ bring back any memories?”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Hopefully our girls will take after me instead of you.”

Sam and Pastor Jim just stared at him in disbelief. 

“What?”

“Are you saying your shit doesn’t stink?” Sam’s eyebrows disappeared under his bangs.

“No, I’m saying yours stinks worse.” 

Dean couldn’t help mentally patting himself on the back. It wasn’t always easy to render Sam speechless. Setting his hip on the edge of the bed Dean patted at Sam until he moved over and made room on the bed for both of them. He gently kissed Sam’s temple.

“So show me how this thing works…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

EPILOGUE

Six weeks after the birth 

Dean had done a lot of things in the dead of night, but slipping a couple of infant girls out of a country hospital wasn’t one of them. It was a cold, clear night and luckily the moon was only showing a sliver of its normal bright self, which made it much easier to sneak around. 

The car was packed with everything they’d need for the drive to Tennessee. Bobby had already driven down all their belongings and the cabin in the Smoky Mountains near Elizabethton was ready and waiting for them to arrive. Neither Dean nor Sam had seen the cabin, but Bobby assured them that it was well insulated, heated and would give them plenty of room to raise the girls.

While Dean had been hoping to end up in a warmer climate, like Florida, Tennessee actually made the most sense when you listed out the pros and cons. Big con being the snowy winters. Big pro being David Stone was actually from the area and still had family in Hunter and Sadie, so nobody would look twice when he went home to visit family every few months. 

It had taken a lot of persuading for Dean to finally accept the ‘loan’ of the cabin from Bobby. It wasn’t until Bobby told him he was leaving it to the brothers in his damn will, that Dean capitulated. Good-bye Florida, hello Tennessee.

David had let it be known that the girls were being released in two days, giving the brothers a clear field tonight to disappear without a posse on their trail. The girls had never been left alone during their stay; either Dean, Sam, Bobby or Pastor Jim was right outside the window or inside with the girls at all times. Nobody was taking any chances on having something “accidentally” happen to them. Rev. Reynolds and his flock hadn’t let up on the boys, especially once they found out the babies had been born and Sam was right in the hospital. 

Parking the car as close to the back door as possible, Dean shut off the engine and took a deep breath. This was it, what he and Sam had been waiting so long for: the four of them together as a family. He mentally crossed his fingers and toes, hoping everything went smoothly, and disappeared into the hospital.

He didn’t pass anyone on his way to the NICU; they planned for this time, 2 AM, as it was after any shift changes, most of the interns would be sleeping, and anyone else would be at their stations working. Barring any emergencies everything should stay quiet.

Janet–if Dean wasn’t in love with Sam, he’d be taking Janet home with him, what a woman–was standing outside the NICU waiting for him. She smiled when she saw him.

“They’re all ready,” she whispered. “Sam’s fed them, they’ve been changed and are bundled up like two little bugs in a rug.”

“Thanks, Janet. You’ve been great. We couldn’t have done this without you and we owe you big time.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just figure out someway to let me know you’re all okay, and we’ll be even.” She held the door open so he could slip through.

Sam was sitting in the rocking chair, a bundle of blankets in the crook of each arm. He looked up, eyes wide and worried, as Dean came in.  
Dean frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing really,” Sam said softly. “Just want to get out of here and get going.”

“Me, too. You ready?”

“We’re ready.” Sam stood. “Thanks, Janet.”

“You’re welcome, Sam.” Janet planted a kiss on the top of each little bundle, before giving Sam a gentle push. “Out of here, boys, before somebody sees what we’re doing and you end up with the wrath of the religious on your backs!” 

With a smile, Sam and Dean quietly left the room and headed down the hall to the back door, the Impala and their new life together as a family of four.

The End.


End file.
